Trail of Fate

by Michael P. Spradlin

  The fire helped me relax, and I realized how tired I was. Maryam was stifling yawns as well. Robard volunteered to take the first watch, so I lay down next to the fire and closed my eyes, asleep in seconds.

  Robard shook me awake a few hours later. He had banked the coals and the fire glowed. The warmth was comforting in the chill of the night as I held my hands over it, still feeling groggy and sore, and wincing at any movement of my still aching muscles.

  Instead of keeping a sharp eye for anyone who came our way, I squatted close to the fire and closed my eyes for a few minutes. In my dream, the humming sound of the Grail came to me again. It pulled me up from the darkest depths of sleep, and when my eyes opened, its song was replaced by Angel’s low growl. Maryam and Robard were still asleep, but it was nearly daybreak. Scrambling to my knees, I searched the surrounding woods, feeling like I had just awoken from a bad dream. Angel snarled again, louder this time, and stood, teeth bared, staring into the darkness.

  “Bonjour,” a voice said quietly from behind me.

  I jumped in the air and my hand clutched the hilt of my sword as I spun around.

  There on the beach a few yards from the fire was a large force of mounted horsemen. They were all dressed in black tunics with gold crosses on the chest. Each of them was heavily armed with sword, lance and shield. At the head of the column rode a very tall, resplendent-looking man wearing the same black tunic but with a golden cape, rimmed with white fur, around his shoulders. His beard was neatly trimmed, and in the gathering light I could see his dark hair and black, cold eyes. He wore a very large ring made of gold on his right hand. He was a priest or monsignor of some rank. Having grown up around monks, I still thought it odd to find a man of God in command of troops. But it was not an uncommon practice. Celia had made mention of an archbishop who was angry with her, and it appeared he had sent his most trusted priest to track her down.

  He stared down at me with an expression on his face I couldn’t quite place at first, then did. Amusement. He dismounted and strode toward the fire until he stood just a few feet away. Angel did not like his uninvited invasion of our camp. She growled again, moving between me and the stranger.

  “Looks to be a ferocious dog. Does he bite?” the man asked.

  I nodded.

  He chose to ignore Angel, who backed up until her rump rested against my leg. I could feel the tension in her body and had no doubt she would spring in a heartbeat if this man made the wrong move. “You are dressed as a servant of the Templars, are you not?” he asked. He spoke English with a very thick French accent, reminding me of King Richard. But I understood him just fine.

  I nodded.

  “Do you intend to draw your sword?” he asked, pointing to my hand, which still clutched the hilt of my weapon.

  I shook my head. He had yet to give me a reason.

  “Good. Are you able to speak?” he asked.

  I nodded again, which made him smile.

  “Excellent. Then I’m hoping you will be able to help me locate a group of outlaws. I suspect you crossed paths with them last night,” he said. His tone said he knew this to be true and it would be useless for me to deny it. He never took his eyes off me.

  Without moving my head, I glanced down. Robard’s eyes were open and he was looking at me, trying desperately to figure out what to do. His wallet and bow sat leaning against a tree trunk a few inches from his hand.

  “Please leave the bow and arrows where they are,” the priest said, evidently aware that Robard was awake. There was a lack of menace in his voice, which only made him sound more formidable. He spoke with a casual certainty as if expecting us to obey his commands without question.

  Very slowly Robard rose to stand next to me. He yawned, running his hand through his hair as if he wasn’t bothered by any of this at all.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Robard said.

  “Then you must allow me to introduce myself,” the man replied. “I am the High Counsel to the Archbishop of Languedoc. My men and I are on the trail of six heretics. We followed them to your camp upstream. We lost their trail north of here and then followed your tracks. Now, if you please, I would like to know, where are they headed?”

  I had a feeling this High Counsel would not take well to deception.

  “Heretics? I thought you said you were on the trail of outlaws,” Robard asked.

  “One and the same,” he replied.

  “We need to know which,” Robard said. “I have no use for heretics, but outlaws, well, that’s a different story. So which is it, Father?”

  The High Counsel’s eyes narrowed and his face turned to stone. I groaned inwardly. Not now, Robard.

  “We had no idea they were heretics, Father,” I interrupted before Robard could say anything more. “We were shipwrecked east of here a few days ago. They found us on the beach and offered us food. That’s all. I can’t say for sure where they were headed, but I heard the word Perpignan a few times. Might it be the name of a city or town?”

  The High Counsel had locked eyes with Robard while I spoke, but now he looked at me again.

  “Perpignan? Yes, it’s a nearby city. Are you sure?”

  “If it is west of here, it must be where they are headed. When they broke camp, they headed south, riding in the shallows. They must have been trying to hide their tracks from you. They probably turned west downstream.”

  The High Counsel looked at me, his black eyes never wavering. I don’t think he even blinked.

  “Why would they head to Perpignan?” he asked, thinking out loud.

  “Can’t swear to it, Father, as I speak only a little French, just heard them mention it. And they said something about reserves. Doesn’t that mean ‘supplies’? Maybe they needed something there?” I had spun a vast web of deceit now and hoped the High Counsel and his men would leave soon so I could resume breathing.

  He studied me, his brow knitted together ever so slightly, then turned and spoke to one of the mounted riders behind him in hushed tones.

  “Very well. Thank you for your assistance. We shall ride toward Perpignan and see if we can pick up their trail. If you come across them again, avoid them. They are outcasts and enemies of the church. They have committed grave sins against God,” he said.

  “Yes, Father. Of course,” I said. “May God have mercy on their souls.”

  He remounted his horse and the column slowly moved westward. He stopped, turning his horse back toward us.

  “If I find out you’ve lied to me, Templar, God will be the only one to grant you mercy.”

  7

  What a rude fellow,” said Robard as the High Counsel and his men faded into the distance.

  “Who was rude?” Maryam said as she staggered to her feet.

  “So glad you could join us. Help us fend off the attackers,” Robard teased.

  “What are you talking about?” she mumbled.

  “We just met Celia’s pursuers,” I said.

  “Nice men, one and all,” said Robard.

  “What did they want?” Maryam asked.

  “They referred to Celia and her band as heretics and outlaws,” I told her.

  “Actually he said outlaws first and then heretics,” Robard pointed out. “Then Tristan told this fellow, who calls himself the High Counsel to some Archbishop of Lancelot, an elaborate fib to throw them off the trail.”

  “Languedoc, Robard, not Lancelot,” I murmured. Robard gave me a dismissive wave and shrugged his wallet onto his back.

  Maryam yawned and stretched. In truth the three of us could probably have stood to sleep for several more hours, but I had just told a deliberate lie to a dangerous man who rode at the head of fifty very heavily armed soldiers. It would be best if we were not easily found when he discovered my deceit.

  “What are we going to do now?” Maryam asked.

  Needing to think, I had unconsciously looked to the north, which led to Celia and her people.

  “Oh no. No, Tristan. Absolutely not! I know that
look of yours!” Robard stared at me, hands on his hips.

  “What look?” I asked innocently.

  “The noble and stupid look you get. The one that says you’re thinking about going after this Celia to help her,” he complained. “You had the same look on your face in Tyre when you jumped into the water to rescue the dog!”

  “I do not . . . No . . . I mean, I’m not thinking . . . only . . .” I didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of going after Celia had occurred to me. Yet I couldn’t ask my friends to take part in something that really did not involve them. I was drawn to Celia, but it was not their concern.

  “What are you two talking about?” Maryam cut in.

  “He’s smitten with the girl. He thinks he can help her or keep this High Counsel fellow from catching up to her. It’s not your business, squire. We need to find a ship. I want to get home. This is, if you’ve not discovered yet, a wretched country. Two of the seven people I’ve met so far have been quite unpleasant. I want to leave these Franks behind me. The sooner the better.”

  In the midst of his rant, Robard had grasped the very essence of my dilemma. Despite his bluster and occasional—all right, frequent—poor humor, he did have an uncanny ability to cut through a problem and see it for what it was. How could I ask my friends to delay their journeys while I traipsed after Celia? Besides, I had sent the High Counsel on a wild goose chase, and Celia and her friends were headed in the exact opposite direction. They knew he was coming. What aid could I offer? One more sword, to make it seven against fifty? With any luck they would reach their mountain fortress and get safely away from this man. But what if they did not? What if the High Counsel saw through my ruse and Celia and her group were captured?

  On top of it all there was one other argument in Robard’s favor. Any time I spent following after Celia or delaying my trip back to England were days that would allow Sir Hugh to catch up to us. As sure as I was of anything, I knew he was coming. I had no doubt he had taken a ship from Tyre and followed us. Sir Hugh was cunning. It would have taken him no time to secure a ship and supplies, and he could have left just a few hours after we had. Until he was sure we were dead or lost in the storm, he wouldn’t stop looking.

  “What are you thinking?” Maryam asked.

  Robard kicked dirt on the fire and grabbed his bow.

  “I’m thinking about Sir Hugh,” I said.

  “What about him?” she asked.

  “He will follow us here. He won’t just assume we drowned in the storm. Once on shore, he’ll go to the nearest commandery and put out word he is searching for us. Maybe even offer a reward. It’s not safe for us to find a port anymore.”

  “Oh? And what would you suggest we do? Walk home?” Robard said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You must be joking,” Robard said.

  I shook my head.

  “All right, forget that for an instant. Why would Sir Hugh care so much about a squire?” Robard asked. “If he did follow us, he saw the storm. What would make him keep coming after you? Why wouldn’t he assume our rickety ship had sunk, and us with it? What do you have that makes him take after you with such determination?”

  Part of me wanted to tell them exactly why. After all this, they’d earned the right to know. But I couldn’t forget my pledge to Sir Thomas. The fact that I carried the most sacred relic in all of Christendom must remain my secret. Luckily, for once I had thought ahead and prepared a story.

  “Sir Hugh wants power. He wants to be Master of the Order. In Acre, he was accused by Sir Thomas of breaking Templar law. I carry evidence of this, the written testimony of Sir Thomas and a few other knights. If this knowledge becomes known to the current Master, Sir Hugh is finished. This is why he wants me dead. I buried the evidence in the alley in Tyre before we went to the Commandery and retrieved it before we left. I swore to Sir Thomas I would see this duty through. I’m following the last order of my knight.”

  “Yet in Tyre you only told them Acre was lost. You didn’t present your evidence to the Marshal there,” Robard said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “I didn’t know if he could be trusted. Sir Hugh was already there, and Sir Thomas thought word must be sent to warn the Master alone. And to do so I must return to England.”

  “So you lied to us?” Maryam interrupted. “You kept the true nature of your mission a secret from us. Why?”

  “If we had been caught or Sir Hugh had captured us before we got to Tyre, it was better for you both if you didn’t know anything. He is after me, not you. If I’d told you or if he suspected I’d told you, you’d be in even more danger.”

  I tried hard to confuse them so they wouldn’t focus on specifics. I wanted to get moving and leave this discussion behind us. My story was full of holes, and all I could do was make Sir Hugh out to be an evil and manipulative villain and hope they would concentrate on him.

  I held my breath. Robard and Maryam were studying me. My gaze never dropped from their eyes. If they demanded to see the evidence I carried, I was safe with Robard, for I knew he could not read. I didn’t know about Maryam. She had been born a merchant’s daughter, and if she could speak English, she might be able to read it as well. If they wanted proof, I was in trouble. Sir Thomas’ letter said nothing about Sir Hugh.

  The sun had fully cleared the horizon now and was burning away the early morning mist. We had to get moving. But I waited while Robard and Maryam considered my words.

  “So if we accept your story, how do you intend to get to England?” Robard asked skeptically.

  “I have thought about this. Since the ports are the first place Sir Hugh will look, I think we go overland, north to the Channel, and get a ship there. It will take him time to search this part of the coast. If we head inland, we can get a head start on him.”

  “Do you have any idea how long it will take?” Robard snorted. “Weeks, at least! Months even! Not to mention your friend the High Counsel will also be looking for you when he finds out you lied to him. What do you intend to do about him?”

  “I intend to hurry.” I knelt down, shaking out my blanket and rolling it up. It had been soaked in salt water, and as it dried, had grown stiff, but it still looped over my shoulder easily enough.

  “Maryam,” I said. “I would like you to come with us. If we can get to London, the Master will make arrangements for you to return to your home on a Templar ship. If you wish to try to find your way alone, I understand.”

  Maryam looked at me for several seconds. Her face was impassive at first, then changed, and for a brief instant doubt flashed across her features. She didn’t believe me. She knew I hadn’t told either of them the truth, but didn’t challenge me. Since we had first met her, Maryam had argued with Robard repeatedly, but she took me at my word. I wondered why, but had no time to think about it.

  After putting the fire out, we were ready to leave. I was hungry and hoped we could find something along the way. Berries or nuts or maybe Robard could shoot some game.

  I waited while Maryam washed her face and hands in the stream. She stood looking at me and nodded. She was ready. “All right, Tristan. If you think this is the best approach, I’ll go with you.”

  Robard still stood quietly. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “So are you coming with us?” I asked.

  Robard looked out at the sea for a second, then at me. “No,” he said. “This is good-bye.”

  8

  Maryam looked stricken.

  “What? Robard, you can’t be serious!” she said.

  Robard shook his head as he slung the wallet onto his back and fiddled with the bow’s string.

  “I’m sorry, Maryam, but I can’t. I have duties at home, responsibilities to my father and family. The longer I delay, the greater their burden,” he said. Robard sounded sad when he spoke of his family, and for the first time since I’d met him, I realized how much he missed them. I was already guilty of delaying his return. Yet I still needed him.

 
“Robard, I understand, but you musn’t . . .”

  Robard held up his hand, shaking his head.

  “No, Tristan. Not this time. You are my friend. Aside from being thrown in jail, shot at by crossbows, shipwrecked and wrestling with a large Frenchman, I have enjoyed your company. I even appreciate your sense of duty. But I cannot wait any longer. And if I do, you’ll talk me into something again, and before I know it, I’ll be hiking through the French countryside dodging who knows whom or what. This is what I need to do.”

  My shoulders slumped. I wished to tell him the truth and almost did. It was there, right on the tip of my tongue. I would gladly reveal all of my secrets to both of them. But I could not. And I could not deny Robard this.

  I stood up straight and held out my hand, and he shook it.

  “I owe you much, my friend,” I said.

  “Try to stay out of trouble,” he said. He looked at Maryam and his face softened.

  “Good-bye, Maryam. I have enjoyed . . .”

  “What are you going to do? How are you going to find a way home? Tristan, will you try to talk some sense into him?” She stormed off a few paces and glared at both of us.

  Maryam’s reaction confused me. She had done nothing but argue with Robard from the first and now she expected me to persuade him to stay? I had grown up in a monastery, without women. Was this how women acted all the time? They said one thing, yet did another. If so, I now understood the monks a little better.

  “His mind is made up, Maryam,” I said.

  “So un-make up your mind!” she said sharply. “You have a duty to your friend. What kind of soldier are you!”

  This was the Maryam I was used to.

  “I am no longer a soldier. I have done my duty,” he snapped.